Short Septa Poems

Never to discover
the limits of soul
Such is the depth 
of its station

The nature of being
not what’s distilled
But what’s left
— from evaporation

(Septa R5: March, 2025) 
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Tapering to a point
time pierces the veil
Unharvested moments
a gardener’s tale  
Dug from the furrows
a voice has been freed
Whose final word spoken  
—eternity’s seed

(Septa R5: June, 2023)...

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Cotton is picked
before cloth is made
Footings poured
to support the stage

Laws enacted
before crimes take place
Love embracing
— for hearts to break

(Septa Train 30th Street: April, 2024)
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Paint in your heart
the colors symphonic
Images dancing
each note brushed with fire
Clapping and cheering
rhythmatic ovations
The prisms last opus
—concerto’s desire

(Septa R5: December, 2023)
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Cultures dissected …
structured refusal
Cloistered eruptions
dearth to accept 
   
Rising triumphant
 they steal from each other
 Defining their existence
—by what they reject


(Septa R5: September, 2023)...

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Intellectual larceny
the academic elite
Immune from indictment
inured and effete
They swing their false knowledge
like weapons to maim
The truth left in ashes
— their lies to inflame

(Septa R5: February, 2024)
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When you have money
the world stops to listen
The content no matter
gratuity bound

The dollars indulgent
as charlatans glisten
Self-interest the mantra
— with greed to compound

(Septa R5 Train: January, 2025)
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That ulcer
in his 
consciousness
bleeding
to be heard
A canker
of a 
muted past
abscessing
every word

Cold sores
of detention
that fade
but never
cure
A virus
of his 
hopes and dreams
recurring
— untoward

(Septa R5 Train: May, 2024)
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On the back side of deliverance,
our paths fated to cross

Your road going toward the light,
my direction all but lost

You stopped and turned toward me,
looking deeply in my eyes

Pity mixed with latent fear
—my fate so redefined

(Septa R5: February, 2020)...

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When born as old
then aging young
Youth before us
with laughter sung

Each day better
than one before
Sick or senile
the past absorbs

Born decrepit
our weakness shows
A mother’s milk
of hope to grow

As childhood waits
the future plays
Where years befriend
—each passing day

(Septa R5: January, 2024)

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Bending a breaking point
rupturing time
Eons of history
skirting the line

Paradox native
our true D.N.A.
Truth as a concept
forever in play

Yessing and noing    
transfixed in between
The jester in transit
all canons demeaned

Freeing the moment
 the first wedded last
a twist to the turning
—where memory contrasts

(Septa R5 To 30th Street: August, 2023)...

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Break,break,break on the cold,gray septa
(the veil is ripped and so am I)
\Fern sundered amongst the 
Daffodils,dandelions and diadems tarnished 
With the oxidation of time and tide
That waits for no man.
\Well here I am
The littlest seraph of Sodom
(what did they do in Gomorrah?)
Blow horns and sack butts
Tan-ta-ra
The epitome of epiphanies awaits
And Gabriel - you go play in the other room....

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